Draught of Lust
by the au lait
Summary: Just a little, smutty Sherlock/John fic. John is an omega, waiting for his alpha coming back from his case abroad. He was okay until somebody unexpected dropped by and gave him something, which dragged him into a more unexpected situation... Established relationship, a bit of Mystrade. Complete!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is a mini-sequel for Where Pathways Meet, my other story. But you don't have to read it for this fic, as this don't need much background. It is an AU, so if you're confused from conflicting facts in this fic, you can check that story out-but not mandatory.

There are just several facts you should know, just in case: Relationships are established, Sherlock/John and Mycroft/Lestrade. This is an omegaverse fic, where the Holmes family is an aristocrat and the Watsons are their retainer. All the characters are slightly younger in this AU. Sherlock and John in their 20s, Mycroft and Lestrade in their 30s.

Hope you enjoy this!

* * *

**Draught of Lust**

thé au lait

~oOo~

John sighed. He looked at the calendar. It has been three months. Three. Bloody. Months.

He was tired. John was tired. He was tired of waiting.  
Waiting for his friend, his bondmate, his lover, Sherlock Holmes.

Everything was going well, if one consider homicide cases and kidnapping as a well-being. Sherlock did, and John always managed to agree with his alpha on anything. Until Mycroft sent Sherlock for some case abroad.

John supposed that Mycroft was just jealous of them; Lestrade was busy these days, and John knew when the smug alpha was sexually frustrated.  
So, with his undignified use of authority and his perfect work, Mycroft pushed his brother into a temporary exile. John was sure this case had something to do with perfectly minimal issues, nothing significant-but Mycroft passionately emphasised its importance.

_Sly bastard._

As a result, John was lack of a good shag for three months. His heat was approaching, and he had no intention to suppress it. Last week, John received the news that Sherlock was going to be back soon, and John knew Sherlock was going to perform out the usual 'post-case shag'.

This time, perhaps more intense than usual. John never failed to appreciate a good, rough shag, and he was building up his expectation. He also carefully prepared for their reunion, as the 'post-case shag' go on for a considerable amount of time. John shopped for groceries, cleaned their flat, did the laundry and ran all the chores to cover for at least a week.

Yes, Sherlock was capable of shagging John for a week.

Sherlock was going to be back tomorrow. John sighed yet again. Somehow his pheromones knew when his alpha was going to be back, so his body was already building up for proper sex. He felt his body warmer than usual, his glands already moist.  
This morning, John almost gave into his primal instincts, but he was able to hold himself thanks to the presence of Mrs. Hudson.

So, long story short, John was sexually frustrated, and a good shag was coming.

~oOo~

John slowly paced the living room. He already called the clinic and told them he was going to be off for at least a week. He also added that Sherlock was coming back tomorrow; Sarah was good at picking up things, and she never failed to read untold contexts. Especially this time.  
So he had nothing to do today, and John was sure he was going to have a peaceful day for at least today. Until there was something unexpected.

There was a knock on the door, and Mrs. Hudson pushed her face through the crack of the door.

"John? You have a guest."

_A guest? I was never expecting one._

John crooked his eyebrows, and Mrs. Hudson took the hint.

"Who is it?"  
"Well... She told me you're going to recognise her."  
"It's a 'she'?"  
"Yes. A fine young woman. She said she was one of Sherlock's previous clients..."

_A client? Previous?_

"Alpha? Beta? Omega?"  
"A beta. Should I send her back, dear?"

John thought for a moment. He was careful with Sherlock's clients, as he knew they were potential brokers for more clients. Sherlock really didn't need the money, but he needed interesting cases. And John never failed to meet Sherlock's needs.

"No. Please, send her in."

Mrs. Hudson nodded, then her face disappeared through the door. Soon, he heard voices from the stairs.  
It was familiar, and considering that she is a previous client, not so surprising- but, it was something different.

John knew the voice. 'She' was not a client. Nor a beta.

She was-

"Hello, John."

_Irene Adler._

John, gaping, stared at the dashing alpha female.

~oOo~

John made tea._ I made tea for the bloody Irene Adler. Great.  
_He muttered to himself, but he somehow managed through the process. And here they were, sitting at his living room. Having a _bloody_ tea time.

Irene Adler was quiet, sipping on her tea.  
John tried to break the awkward silence as he never liked it; so he tried to be polite and tried to come up with something.

"...Hmm. How are you doing?"

Adler smiled, tea cup on her lips.

"Your heat is coming, John. Waiting for Sherlock?"

John never expected that question, so he choked on his tea for a little.

"-What, What?"  
"Your pheromones are thick, sweetheart. That Holmes boy must have shagged you before it got so thick, so it means that he must be away for now. Case? Far away?"

John dazed at her for a moment. He hesitated, but finally spoke.

"...Actually, yes. In Italy."  
"Ooh. How long?"  
"Three months."  
"A bummer."

She sipped on her tea. John knew Irene Adler was just as good as Sherlock, so he wasn't surprised- instead, he was embarrassed.

"Your face is red."

Adler said with a smirk. John frowned.

"By the way, what are you doing here? You should be in Hong Kong."  
"Wanted to drop by, see how my favourite omega is doing."  
"I'm your favourite omega?"  
"With your fascinating scent, yes, dear. How can't I?"

She smiled. John chuckled.

"Okay, okay. Can't say I'm not flattered. I'm the favourite omega of Irene Adler."  
"Of course. Also, I had something to give you..."

She turned and picked up her purse.

Irene Adler was wearing a white two-piece, a perfectly tailored masterpiece. It looked professional and devilishly attractive at the same time. Her purse was a black one, matching her clothing. Not so big, yet comfortable for carrying things.

She reached in, then pulled out a bottle.

"...What is it?"  
"A present for you, my dear."  
"-Anesthetic?"  
"No, no. I'm not going to be harsh on you, John. You're not going to steal something from as Sherlock did last time. I'm here as a guest, just to manage a smalltalk, see how things are going. I missed your scent, too."

Irene Adler laughed, then pushed the small glass bottle into John's hands.

"I wasn't intending to give you this, but you're seemingly frustrated, love. It's just a love potion. When is he going to be back?"  
"Tomorrow."  
"With your looks and your scent, you won't be needing this... But just to flame up your sheets, you can receive help from it."

John hesitated. _What?_

"...So, this is some kind of aphrodisiac or something? Because, if it is, I won't be needing it... Sherlock would be jumping my bones the instant he comes back."

They never have been apart this long since they bonded. The last time they were apart for a long time was for a month; and John had a hard time walking for another month after the case was finished. So John knew that they had no trouble in that way. If they had one, it could be of John's fatigue and Sherlock's endless yearning.

Adler laughed again. John failed to tell if she was deceiving or not.

"No, dear. No. As I've told you, just to spark something up. I'm sure you won't need a help, but just to make sex more interesting. I've been using it back in the days, and it never failed; everybody loved it."

John looked at the bottle.

"You're never going to regret when you use it."

~oOo~

After exchanging words for a while, Adler soon departed the flat. Her steps lingered, her eyes hesitating; but Adler walked out, hailed a cab then disappeared into the crowd.

Peace came back, and John retired to his armchair.

He looked at the opposite armchair. Sherlock's. He missed Sherlock. He missed Sherlock's deductions, his rambling, his quirks.  
John missed Sherlock's violin. His white, long fingers dancing along the strings, beautiful melodies swirling around the flat... Oh, what works that those talented, delicate fingers did!  
It moved along the strings like an angel dancing... It slid upon John's skin, pressing every sensitive spots with gentle pleasure... Digging into John's prostate, while his low baritone whispered into his ears with words of love and want and sex and...

John woke from his daydream, recognising his glands were already soaking wet. Oh, great. I ruined my favourite trousers.

John muttered under his breath, and he quickly stood up to cleanse and change into something else. But his face was already burning red, his thoughts still lingering upon his lover.  
John knew he missed the intimacy. The touch. He loved it, as much as he loved Sherlock.

And, something which would spark it up? _God, YES._

John decided to give the bottle a try.

\- Drink it before you go to bed, and it would kick in during your lunch time.

He decided to give Irene Adler a bit of trust. Until he realised it was a big mistake.

~oOo~

Sherlock wasn't going to arrive at Heathrow until three, so John was having a long lunch. He watched the telly, savoured the alfredo he made himself, and finished the obituaries on the papers. John just had to do something with his anticipation, and distracting himself was one of the solutions.  
But his strength was wearing off; and John knew the draught Adler gave him was going to kick in no further.

Last night, just before he lay down, he took the draught-potion-whatever Adler gave him. Surprisingly enough, it tasted quite smooth and sweet. Gentle, even. John felt good, and he finished up the bottle.  
He wasn't so sure about the maximum dosage, but he supposed the bottle would be a one-time dosage. Anyway, Adler said nothing about the dosage-and really, the taste was good.

John took a glance at the clock. It was just over one. John slowly stood up from the chair, cleaned up the table, then reached for the coat.  
His trip to the Heathrow won't take longer than an hour, but he just couldn't wait anymore.

He decided to go to the airport early and wait for Sherlock-which, in fact, did not go as he planned.

~oOo~

"Hullo, Mrs. Hudson."  
"Hello, John. Oh, Sherlock is going to be back today, isn't he?"  
"Yes, he is."

A little pause.

"I think I'm going to spend the night at my sister's house. It's good to catch things up with her sometimes."

Then a wink.

Mrs. Hudson was a sharp-sighted lady-one time, when Mycroft stopped by, she even asked for sound proof walls. John was still recovering from the incident, but it was sweet in some way... _Privacy, she meant. Perhaps._

Anyway, John blushed for a little, then saluted Mrs. Hudson with a peck on her cheeks. He stepped out of the flat, and strode out on the streets. The day was clear, and the air was sweet.  
John felt good, until he realised something strange. People were turning looks at him. John paused in his way, then studied himself-but nothing was wrong with him. Is there something on my face? He scrutinized his reflection on a show window of a clothing store.

Usual John Watson, staring back at him.

And it left only one plausible explanation. _Oh god, what have Sherlock done now?_

People, who were staring at him, was now slowly approaching him. John stepped back. He studied the people. Nothing in particular, just usual passerby, seemingly no criminals... but these days, criminals came in various faces. No one knew who is a convict or not.  
So, when one man stepped forward and reached out, John launched.

As expected, the people followed him.  
_Okay, so Sherlock must have pissed off a lot of people this time._

John thought in despair, glancing back at the throng of people running after him.

However, as he ran, more and more people were added to the throng. It wasn't until the intersection which John thought something was strange.  
When John ran across the sidewalk, two cars ran towards him then crashed into each other.

John tried to look back, but already the crowd following him was enormous. He was unable to stop, and John kept running. The crowd was unstoppable, running people over and crashing into trash cans-but never stopping.

It was as if they were high. _...High?_

Then, John remembered the draught Adler gave him.

\- Your love will come back.

She said, with a sly smirk.  
That was the first hint.

And the second hint, was that, the crowd following him were all alphas. John knew it from the strong pheromones, as the wind was blowing from their direction.  
_Oh, dear god, what had she given me?_

He kept running, but John knew his legs would give out soon, as he was running for some time. He found a spot where cabs were dwelling. He opened a door.  
Dammit, the cabbie was an alpha.

Quickly dodging the cabbie's jump, John closed the door and jumped for another cab. The crowd was getting close, and he was in a hurry.  
For John's sake, the second cab contained a beta cabbie.

"Heathrow Airport. Bring me there as fast as you can, then I'll double the fee."

John shouted in desperation, and the startled cabbie moved quickly. He saw the crowd, and their faces. The cabbie sent a curious glance, but John growled.

"Don't ask."

The cabbie didn't ask.

~oOo~

They arrived at the airport in a remarkable speed, so John gave the cabbie the promised fee. John jumped off the cab, then glanced at the clock. He took a detour as he ran from the crowd, so it took more than expected- it was almost three, and Sherlock was going to be here soon.

He let out a sigh in relief.

John felt content, until he spotted an alpha staring at him. Okay, so it goes on again. John breathed in deeply, and ran through the entrance. Sherlock was going to be flying in from Vienna(don't know why, but somehow Sherlock got to Vienna).

The flight was going to arrive on three o'clock sharp, and it was two to three now.

John glanced back. Already there were more than a dozen alphas staring back at him. Oh, bloody-

Suddenly, his mobile rang. John pulled it out. 'Unknown Caller'

Okay, so I'm sought out by a throng of lusty alphas, and somebody is calling me with their identity concealed. Great.

John was in despair, so he pushed the button and answered.

"Yes?"

[ How's it going, John?]

Elegant voice, flowing accent. _Damn it, Mycroft._

"Damn it, Mycroft. You saw everything, didn't you?"  
[ Apparently the dominatrix had been a great effect on you, John. ]  
"You knew it, and you didn't give me a hand."  
[ You seemed quite busy. ]  
"Okay. I'm not in a mood for smalltalk. I'll be short, cause some women are already staring at me as if they're going to eat me- Send me a ride, right away, with a beta driver. You'll know where I'm at."  
[ Of course. Good day, John. ]  
"Bloody good day. You're a bastard, you know that, Mycroft?"  
[ I'm not a bastard. I'm pure-born. ]  
"Oh, shut up."

John hung up. He was sure Mycroft was going to keep their promise, as he knew Mycroft wasn't going to let John fall in trouble- Mycroft was never going to let a member of his family fall into wrong hands.

Especially when those hands were some strange throng of horny alphas.

John was running when he was talking, so he was able to escape a lot of alphas in his direction. Thank god John was a healthy man. He rummaged through his memory, then fished up his last conversation with Sherlock.

\- Gate 14. Just been told.

Well, more of a text than a conversation. Sherlock sent it just before his departure from Vienna. John glanced at the directions. He turned right, then jumped onto a moving walk.

Gate 14 wasn't so far, and John gathered his remaining wits. Sherlock was coming, and he was going to protect him. John glanced back. A crowd of alphas were running in his direction. He took a deep breath, then started running.

~oOo~

When Sherlock disembarked from the flying object, he never suspected this kind of situation. He was never a person easily startled or bewildered-instead, he was the surprise or bewilderment for others.

This time, it was different.

He thought John, his John, was going to stand at the arrivals, waiting for him, with his warm smile and a hug. He was going to hug John, kiss him on the forehead then his mouth, perhaps a deep kiss. Then he was going to hang his arms around his omega, one hand stroking through that smooth blond curls, walk through the halls of the airport to the entrance.

Instead, a panting, disheveled John Watson was running towards him. Followed by a crowd of alphas, apparently aroused. Sherlock sought out the reason the instant John launched at him.

The scent, deep, lavish, intoxicating, the mixture of every fascination in the world.

"What-"  
"Irene Adler."

When Sherlock opened his mouth, John answered at the moment. Sherlock instantly sought out the facts, clear as crystal to the consulting detective.

He pulled his omega close, arms hugging tightly around the shoulders. He glared furiously into the crowd, then growled low but no less than frightening.

"**Mine**."

* * *

**A/N**: I initially planned this to be a one-shot, but I failed miserably. Please tell me how you think, and let me know if you want more. ;)


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Sorry you guys had to wait for the shag to come along, but finally I've got time and wrote it up! You don't have to wait anymore, cause this chapter is the end of this short fic. Hope it's worthy of all your waiting! Enjoy reading ;)

* * *

**Draught of Lust**

**Chapter 2**

the au lait

~oOo~

John didn't know how he and Sherlock ended up being here, panting in a dark alley in god-knows-where-perhaps-at-least-in-London.  
But somehow they did dodge the swarm of alphas, thanks to the guile of his alpha.  
Sherlock peeped out of the alley for a moment to check if there is no remnants of the horny horde, then he returned his gaze to John and smiled.

"I've missed you."

John, still panting from running all the way to this dark place, smiled back and felt Sherlock nuzzling his lips against his own.  
John murmured into Sherlock's chaste kiss.

"I've missed you too."

John wrapped his arm around Sherlock's waist, and buried his face deep into Sherlock's ridiculously expensive coat.  
He breathed in all of his alpha- the comfort, the relief, the love... and, the lust.

John, then realised that he is just on the edge of his heat, and his glands were already soaking his trousers.  
He also realised that Sherlock's eyes were blown wide, evidently with the haze of lust, and he was nervously chewing on his lips.  
John was terribly sorry and somehow terribly turned on at the same time-he know Sherlock was holding himself back just for the sake of John.  
He also knew that Sherlock wasn't going to hurt him, and that was strangely a major turn-on.

However, John just didn't want to shag in this filthy place, and he knew Sherlock always wanted the best for him-and a dark alley wasn't the best.  
John wondered how can they get back to their flat, or at least somewhere fuckable, a hotel maybe.  
However, his omega pheromones were getting stronger exponentially by every passing moment, and taking a cab was definitely not an option now.

Just at the moment, as if God was answering to John's endless prayers (_God, please get me out of this misery right now!_) which he murmured while fleeing from the alphas, John saw a sleek limousine pausing right outside of the alley.  
John felt his phone buzzing(even the buzz was sending a jolt of pleasure up his spine. It was _crazy_), so he took it out.

[ Sent the car you asked for. ]  
"Shut up, Mycroft."  
[I have dutifully answered your inquiry. Is that your best reply?]

Sherlock snatched the mobile out of his hand and barked into the speaker.

"You deserve it, you son of a bitch."

Sherlock then disconnected the call, grabbed John by his hand, and led him to the limo.

~oOo~

At first, Sherlock seemed that he was trying to keep his hands to himself.  
Although he was obviously squirming in his seats and sending a heaty gaze in John's direction every now and then, it was sure that he was keeping his sexual desire under control.

However, by the time the ride was getting into half an hour, Sherlock's hands already found his way up into John's shirt, his lips marvelously ravaging John's nape.  
John didn't have any intention to protest against the bliss Sherlock was providing, so he simply panted and gasped under Sherlock's touches.  
Fortunately, the partition was up, so they weren't disturbing the driver, at least.

"John."

Sherlock's baritone rung through John's auditory nerves as if it was pure **_sex_**.  
John gasped, feeling his lungs losing air, and reached for Sherlock's shoulders.

"Sherlock- ah! Please, please-"

The alpha's lips were burning against his already sensitive skin. He felt Sherlock's teeth skimming along the surface of his neck.  
Sherlock was fumbling with his buttons, and John with Sherlock's. Already the sexual tension was about to reach the climax. John felt the bulge on the front of Sherlock's trousers, and blushed a little. Sherlock laughed-he fucking laughed, and John trembled at the sound-and whispered.

"I love when you blushes."

John blushed even more at the whisper, then he grabbed Sherlock by his cheeks and frantically kissed his alpha.  
By the time the kiss ended, Sherlock already kicked his trousers away. John pushed Sherlock down to the car seat, and dragged his fingers down the exposed skin of the alpha. Sherlock moaned, and John smirked at the desperate sound.

"I love when you moans."  
"Just shut up and get your lips on me, Watson."

John laughed, then he got Sherlock's briefs off him in one quick move. The sprained cock sprung out, and John slowly bent down to take it inside his lips.  
He started out gently, nipping lightly at the head, but soon he was deep-throating. Sherlock was panting, reaching for air, asking God for mercy-and John kept slurping, sucking, running tongue up and down the penis every now and then, his hand already reaching down to tug at his own spraining cock.  
He knew exactly when to lick at where to send Sherlock into crazy mess, and his tactics were working perfectly. He looked Sherlock up through his eyelashes, and met the blazing gaze Sherlock was sending in his direction.

"God- I love when you look at me like that-"

Sherlock mumbled between his moans, then moved his hands to entangle his fingers into John's curls.

John smiled with his lips stuffed with Sherlock's cock. He felt he was reaching the tipping point, as well as Sherlock, so he decided to give a strong sensation to drag them up into climax.

John sucked hard, his cheeks hollowing against Sherlock's manhood, and gave his own cock a hard tug. He felt a white blaze flashing against his eyes, and Sherlock's body trembling with utmost joy and pleasure. Soon Sherlock came in his mouth-John kept sucking, gulping down the semen-feeling his own cock spilling into his hands.  
They both came down from the ecstasy, finding themselves already broken into a panting, sweaty mess.

After they managed to find enough air, Sherlock laughed and dragged John into a tight embrace. He kissed John numerously onto his cheeks, and lustfully whispered into John's ears.

"You know it's not over, right?"

John shivered, with anticipation and lust and glee. The couple then realised the limo was already standing still. Perhaps at least for ten minutes.

They hastily clothed themselves, laughing and panting and kissing, and madly in love.

~oOo~

Although there had been an unfortunate incident when Sherlock dropped the keys while he was fumbling with the lock, they somehow successfully banged the door open, stumbled inside and shut it with John's body thrown against it. Sherlock pinned John against the door, kissing violently on John's lips. John shook his coat off and grabbed Sherlock by the neck.

Their lips entangled, fluids exchanged. John felt that Sherlock's kiss was sweeter than the first kiss they shared in the limo. Perhaps it's because they found a little bit of ration due to the quick blowjob during the ride. Sherlock broke off the kiss, laughing, and placed a chaste kiss on John's forehead.

"Again, I've missed you so bloody much- do you know how miserable I was when you started to feel the post-heat symptoms?"

Thanks to their bloody strong bond, Sherlock must have been feeling what John was feeling simultaneously even though he was a flight away.

"So what did you do?"  
"I fuckin' jerked off in the hotel loo. What do you think I have done?"  
"Well, you could have just got off whomever you want."

After giving the remark, John gave a sly smile while Sherlock frowned.

"You think I'm going to do that to you?"  
"Aah, no, but I'm just playing around with you, dear."  
"You _fucking_ well should be, you guile slut."  
"Oh, what if I'm not?"  
"Then I'll have to punish you."

John grabbed Sherlock by the collar, nipped along the alpha's jaw line, then murmured.

"**Punish me, then.**"

He felt Sherlock's ration shattering into pieces, and Sherlock's hands were dragging John by his arms no sooner than John finished mouthing the statement.

They laughed again like a pair of naughty schoolboys, stumbling up the stairs, never breaking contact and throwing off their garments one by one.  
They left a long trail of clothing in their wake by the time they reached the bedroom-their bedroom, and already naked.

John was thrown onto the bedding, and felt Sherlock climbing up on him. Sherlock reached down to kiss gently on John's lips, and then he went downward; to his neck, his tits, his belly, down to his waist and finally, his cock.

"I think your cock is so fucking pretty, John."

John gasped. Sherlock's baritone was rippling against his skin, his oh-so-sensitive-skin, and he felt his nerves crying with pleasure with that sinfully lustful voice.

"-Ah, mind to elaborate?"

John managed to ask, with a huff of laughter, then lifted his hands to mingle it with Sherlock's silky raven curls.  
Sherlock grinned down at him, his eyes sparkling lasciviously with zeal and craving.

"It's so pink- so cute, I think, it reminds me of a lollipop. I bet it would taste as good as one."

John snickered. Sherlock was getting so good at dirty talk.

"Then please go ahead, taste it."  
"You want me to?"  
"Whatever- blow me, fuck me, rim me, whatever you like to do, love. You can tie me down and fuck my brains out, I don't care.  
Just exploit my heat as much as you can."

Sherlock smiled impishly, then crept up and kissed John on his cheeks.

"I personally think the last option is the most beautiful."  
"Handcuffs in the bedside drawer."  
"Did you pickpocket Greg again?"  
"He took the last one away, what should I have done?"  
"I think you're getting bad ideas, John."  
"Oh, where do you think I've got those ideas from?"  
"I'm not so sure, but surely from a master."

Sherlock reached to the drawer, dragging a pair of handcuffs, and grabbed John's wrist to handcuff him to the bedpost.

He then, returned to his kissing routine-first at John's jaws, then his lips, his eyes, his forehead, his hair.

John was just gasping and oohing and listlessly flowing along the alpha's movement.  
He felt his glands were dripping, and his hips were already pressing against Sherlock's.

"Sherlock..."

John whispered, his voice dripping with greed. Sherlock's eyes lit up.  
John saw the animalistic greed flowing into the alphas clear blue eyes, so he wrapped his legs around Sherlock's waist just to give a little push.

"Fuck me. Shag me into next week, I don't care. Just push that marvelous cock inside me and come."

Sherlock gazed at John for a moment, then reached down to kiss him deeply on his lips.

"Whatever you say, darling."

John spread his thighs as Sherlock reached down, and Sherlock pushed one of the fingers inside.

John let out a long, anticipating sigh of bliss.  
Sherlock pushed his finger inside, ever-so-gently, as if he was teasing John and was pushing the omega to his edge.  
John hung his arm around Sherlock's neck, and he gazed into Sherlock's eyes, his own eyes still glimmering with glee and longing.  
He saw beads of sweat flowing down Sherlock's high cheekbones, his sinfully scarlet red lips swollen with their endless exchange of kisses, his alabaster skin shining even in the bedroom with lights turned off.

John was drunk in Sherlock's beauty when Sherlock tapped on his prostate. John threw his head back, howling with delight. Soon, one finger turned into two, then three- John trembled as Sherlock was fucking him with his fingers while he was kissing and nipping at his nipples and lips.

"Sherlock- ah- please- more- ah!"  
"John... you're so fucking beautiful."

Sherlock laughed then he dragged his fingers out. He pushed John's thighs upward then posed himself between John's legs. John felt the head nudging against the entrance of his hole, which was already well-fucked with Sherlock's fingers. However, he knew it wasn't enough-so he howled with exhilaration when he felt the cock pushing inside his hole, stretching it open.

"Huge... so fucking huge Sherlock, tremendously huge- ah-"

Sherlock bit John's ear, and brushed the tip of his fingers down the omega's spine.  
John's body welcomed him marvelously, the hot passage stretching open but pushing against his cock, sending him into elation.  
The omega was always perfect; not just sex, in a lot of ways, but the sex was always just too great to ignore.  
He played the omega with more skill than he he played the violin, dipping his ears into the wave of moans the omega emitted, more elating and beautiful than any music Sherlock ever heard.

He saw John's blond hair sticking against his forehead with sweat; his cheeks strewn with tears of pleasure; kiss-swollen, cherry red lips gleaming with their saliva and partially, Sherlock's come; his eyes half-closed, long eyelashes trembling with euphoria and fervor.

Sherlock took everything in dutifully, tucking it carefully inside his mind palace, savouring it with pious adoring and admiration.

John was perfect; perfect than any living thing on the surface on earth; hell, he must be beautiful than Venus.

He remembered the scene from when John gave him a blowjob in the limo. He remembered, John's lips wrapped around his cock, slurping and gulping, his eyes gazing hotly through his eyelashes, his cheeks hollowed, and Sherlock's own semen dripping down John's chin- it was a breathtaking tableau, and Sherlock just loses himself every time he saw John in that position.

"John..."

Sherlock muttered against the omega's skin, and he kissed the omega gently-while his cock was ravaging the omega ruthlessly.  
John screamed, howled, moaned and sobbed and wailed for more and more; and Sherlock gave what John wanted.

He thrusted in with accuracy, brushing against the prostate with every movement, and held John forcefully in his position with his hands on John's waist.  
He saw John's cock swelling up, so he reached one hand down to caress it skillfully.  
John's hole clenched against his cock in accordance with his movement, and every time it did Sherlock felt endless bliss and beatitude.

Soon, they were knocking at the pinnacles of pleasure, and John's eyes were rolled up into his head.  
Sherlock reached down to kiss John on the lips, retreating just to thrust in with one, clear movement to send John into extremity.

The couple met their orgasm moaning each other's names.  
Sherlock shuddered, coming inside John, and felt his knot swelling up.

John panted, dropping his head onto Sherlock's shoulder. Sherlock hugged John tightly, whispering words of affection and comfort from his heart.

After they stabled enough to talk, Sherlock rolled to his right to lie down and gazed into John's eyes.  
John smiled, and he softly slid his fingers along the side of Sherlock's face.

He carefully whispered, his words embroidering the air like a gold thread would do a silk.

"I love you."

Sherlock smiled, tugging John closer.

"Me too."

* * *

**A/N**: Well well, hope it was a good smut! Thanks for all who favourited despite me seemingly abandoning this fic :) I love you guys so much!


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